


A Love That Lasts

by myxstorie



Category: Japanese Actor RPF, Japanese Drama, Johnny's Entertainment, NewS (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 05:17:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myxstorie/pseuds/myxstorie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>PG; Yamapi/<a href="http://wiki.d-addicts.com/Tokiwa_Takako">Tokiwa Takako</a></i><br/>For <span class="ljuser i-ljuser"><a href="http://jain.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://jain.livejournal.com/"><b>jain</b></a></span> for <span class="ljuser i-ljuser"></span><a href="http://je-whiteday.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://je-whiteday.livejournal.com/"><b>je_whiteday</b></a>'10, <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/je_whiteday/29110.html?">here</a>, although whether or not she liked it is anyone's guess because she never commented :\ I floundered around for such a long time with this one, struggling with different pairings and situations and I was just about ready to tear my hair out in frustration, but once I got going with these two, it really wasn't that hard at all ♥</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Love That Lasts

It wasn't his first drama, but his unbridled excitement had said otherwise. Even though Yamashita was so young, Takako had been able to appreciate his talent and dedication to doing the best he possibly could in anything he put his mind to, eyes welling up and breaking her heart with a word, and when the tears were finished with, it only took him a blink and a swallow before he was back to the smiling mood-maker she saw every morning.

And now, he'd grown from the child she'd known into a man. He'd filled out, no longer the gangly teen he had been, and his voice had taken on a warm, smooth tone that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. His face had matured, growing into his features and even his eyes had a depth she wasn't used to seeing in someone so young.

A far cry from the polite, yet exuberant child he'd been when they first met, Yamashita is soft-spoken and gentle, kind to just about anyone he comes into contact with, and the icing on the cake is that he genuinely can't fathom why the girls swoon when he thanks them - always from the very bottom of his heart, no matter how small their offering.

He is clueless as to his power, and Takako can't deny it; somewhere over the years, she, like the rest of the country, has fallen under his spell.

-

_Decemember 29th, 2000_

The first time their paths cross, he's wrapped up tightly against the cold, mouth hidden inside his scarf while hers trails behind her, caught in the wind. Yamashita bows deeply, his soft let's work well together all but lost in the wool, and she returns the gesture with a soft smile, looking forward to working with the boy they were saying was going to be the next big thing.

She soon discovers why; his endless enthusiasm is infectious, bringing a smile to the faces of cast and crew alike whether they were nodding off in their chairs at four in the morning, or crawling back onto the set three hours later to pick up where they'd left off. He has an equally contagious, awkward grin that makes his eyes crinkle and shine, and he works harder than anyone else on set, always rearing to go whether it's their first take or their thirty-first, never putting in any less than one hundred percent.

Takako can't remember the last time she's had so much fun on set, and when she returns home to the comfort of her own bed once the final scene has been shot, fully intending on sleeping for the next week straight, she can't help but feel like she's missing something.

-

_December 28th, 2001_

Just the sight of his name at the top of the script, just below hers, is enough to make her smile.

He hasn't changed much in the year since she last saw him, a little taller, a little broader, all the signs that he's about to hit puberty. That endless laughter and drive is still the same, too, and she finds that not even the long hours and terrible food and heart-wrenching scenes they film together can't bring her down in the slightest.

She's as much of a mother to them all on-screen as off, wanting to make sure they're all eating and sleeping properly and doing their homework, and before long she feels like she's bonded with these kids more than with some of her own family.

She might be imagining it, but Yamashita's smile seems to widen a little more than everyone else's whenever he sees her, his eyes twinkling a little brighter. Even Kubozuka pokes fun at her for being the subject of a teenage crush; her revenge comes in the form of the girls giggling and hiding behind their hair whenever he talks to them, though, so she doesn't waste her time fighting back.

Besides, there are worse things to be than someone's crush, even if he is only sixteen.

-

_January 21st, 2001_

The first time they eat together, Takako is sitting in a fold-out chair, with a blanket around her shoulders to stave off the cold. He holds out a steaming paper cup towards her and she takes it gratefully, before he produces a pre-packed bun from his pocket and gives her that, too.

"You didn't have to do that, Yamashita-kun," she smiles, "Thank you."

He nods and swallows a mouthful of coffee, chattering offhandedly to her about anything and everything that springs to mind, and she listens attentively to everything he has to say as he talks about homework and soccer and music. He never once mentions work, the one thing they both have in common, and she's pleased to find they don't _need_ to use it to keep the conversation flowing between them, interspersed with comfortable silence as they chew and drink.

The bun is a little squashed, and the coffee is slightly too sweet, but the company is just right, with a bright smile and full cheeks as he forgets his manners in his haste to argue his point with her.

She laughs as he nearly chokes on his food, and he blushes to the tips of his ears. It's the most endearing thing she can ever remember seeing, and as they see in the dawn together, she finds herself hoping this isn't the last drama they have the chance to film with each other.

-

_November 6th, 2007_

Six years later, and she’s all but forgotten about it. She’s acted since then, even moving onto playing parts in movies, but the one thing she always misses on set is that presence, that smile, that spark that brought them all together.

It’s purely by chance that they stumble across each other, literally, in the supermarket one day. She’s crouching down to reach the pre-packaged tofu on the bottom shelf when a foot catches her in the hip and its owner tumbles onto the floor, their upturned shopping basket and open cellphone skidding across the aisle.

“I’m so sorry!” He rushes to apologise as he scrambles to his feet, and already she recognises his voice.

“Yamashita-kun!” She smiles, and lets him help her up, despite her being the reason he’d fallen over in the first place.

His eyes go as round as saucers for a moment before he remembers his manners, bowing deeply and stuttering out formalities.

“There’s really no need to be so formal,” she tells him, and tries not to smile a little wider as he blushes gently, “Not between old friends, hm?”

His nod is still more of a bow, but he’s meeting her eyes now and flashing her a small smile of his own. It’s nothing like the smile she’d been used to seeing, none of the uninhibited zeal that she’d come to associate him with, but there’s that familiar shine to his eyes that had always made the day go by faster.

Once he’s collected his shopping and apologised to the person on the other end of the phone, they go for coffee, and she realises just how much he’s changed in the years they’ve been apart. He’s different, but as much as she’d liked him as a child, she’s beginning to like him more as a man. He’s grown up well, if a little faster than his peers, and he wears adulthood like a second skin, that sixteen-year-old grin peeking out every now and then from beneath the years on his face.

It becomes a regular occurrence, them meeting for coffee – or tea, cakes, ramen – whenever their schedules allow it, and despite all the female friends she holds dear, he’s the one that ends up closest to her heart.

-

_July 18th, 2011_

He's the one she turns to when her marriage falls apart.

He never asks about her husband, nor her private life, sticking solely to work and the lives of others when they talk until she steers the conversation elsewhere, and at first she assumes it’s simply because he’s too polite to ask such personal things of her. But soon she notices that look in his eyes again, the one she’d seen all those years ago when he was still a boy, that spark that says more than words ever could.

But he never once acts upon it. He is the one constant in her life, the ever-present, ever-friendly, ever-collected Yamashita Tomohisa, and she knows that when it all goes wrong, he’s the one who will be there for her when she needs him most.

She doesn’t want to cry, doesn’t want to appear weak in front of someone with such control over themselves, but the moment he opens the door to his apartment, brow furrowing with concern, she crumbles and lets the tears fall as he ushers her inside and gently guides her down onto the couch.

She _aches_ by the time she’s let it all out, and through it all he sits with her, holding her when she needs it, letting her sob until she has no more tears left to cry and stroking her hair when she continues to shake and gasp in shuddering, painful breaths of air. He never once questions her, never prods her for information, just remains a solid presence by her side until she’s ready to tell him everything; the failed conceptions, the missing spark, the lonely nights and, finally, the other woman.

He flinches visibly at that, something unpleasant flashing through his eyes, but his hands are gentle as he wipes at her tear tracks, and by the time she looks at him again it’s gone, replaced with only a soft, horribly understanding sympathy.

The first time they share a meal at his apartment is also the first time he really opens himself up to her, and she comes out of it a fan of his mother’s reheated curry but with a firm dislike of Abiru Yuu and the way she'd stolen his heart, not handing it back until she'd broken it into tiny shards that grated against each other in a fierce reminder of everything she'd done to him.

Always the perfect gentleman, he shows her to his room when she starts to feel drowsy, and retrieves a blanket of his own to curl up with on the couch, where he stays all night. She falls asleep surrounded by his scent and she's sure that, more than anything else, that's what finally lulls her to sleep.

-

_March 6th, 2012_

He's been there for her through it all. Through the tears and the anger, the pain and the horrible, nagging fear of being alone. He's stopped her from taking _him_ back more than once, held her and told her over and over about how she's better than that, how she's still young and fun and beautiful and could have any man she wanted, that she didn't have to settle for scum like that. He's by her side through the confrontations and messy divorce, her now ex-husband hurling insults and cutting abuse at him - "I bet you're already sleeping with her, aren't you, pretty boy. You act all innocent but you Johnnys are all in it for the same thing. Bet the frigid bitch rolled right over for you, didn't she?" - but through it all, Yamashita stays an immovable force, her life-size, human-shaped rock who holds her together when she's not strong enough to do it herself.

Even now, sometimes she sees that look in his eyes, sees that he's hurting for her in ways he hasn't voiced yet. Sometimes she feels something in his touch, his hand smoothing through her hair or squeezing her shoulder, saying things she knows he doesn't mean to say. Sometimes she sees, feels, hears, but he never acts. Not once has he ever hinted towards anything but a purely platonic relationship between the two of them, taking care of her like a brother or a best friend, and gently - but firmly - rebuffing any of her own advances when the loneliness becomes a little too hard to bear.

Not once, not until tonight.

"Tokiwa-san," he says, voice cracking slightly as he addresses her - still not having dropped the honorific after all their years of friendship, "Please don't do this. I..." He pauses, and she draws her hand back from his knee. She's unable to look him in the eye, but it's okay because he's not looking at her, either.

"I won't be your rebound," he says softly, "I... You mean too much to me for that. I won't let us happen on his terms."

For the first time in twelve years, he finally puts his feelings into words, and now that he has, she has no idea what to say.

-

_December 31st, 2020_

She hasn't seen him perform for a long time, not like this. While his group were still in formation, she'd been to a few of their shows, mainly to be polite, but she couldn't deny they had a talent for exciting the crowd and showing them how to have a good time. But they weren't in their 20's anymore, and younger, newer groups had been stepping up to take their place, so NEWS had faded into the background; still very much a unit, but presenting, acting, even directing more now than they sang.

She loves to hear him sing, though, however off-key and awkward it sounds. His voice reminds her of life and joy and the thrill of new things, and now that he's back up there with his group, the excitement written all over his face takes her back almost twenty years.

They've never gotten to see in the New Year _together_ , not really, but this is good enough for her, watching him sing his heart out and smile hard enough to break his jaw before the final countdown begins. It's only when it's all over, the show, the clean-up, the party, that he comes over, never too tired to share a glass of wine before she ushers him into bed to sleep.

Takako's dated since she left her husband, nice guys with nice smiles and nice manners, but that's all they were; _nice_. She's been surrounded by 'nice' guys for most of her life, and they just won't cut it. She wants someone who will make her heart _doki-doki_ , someone who makes her long to see them when they're apart, someone who makes her laugh hard enough that her stomach aches, someone who will fill that space in her heart.

Over the years, she's come to realise just who the space seems to have been made for, and why no-one else will fill it. But ever since the night he'd admitted that he had more than just friendly feelings towards her, she hadn't made any move to be closer to him, afraid of seeing that look in his eyes, of hearing that barely-veiled hurt in his voice. He also hadn't mentioned it again, and although she still catches his eyes on her for a few beats too long every now and then, there's never been anything more than that.

But it's been eight years of failed relationships since then, and she's most certainly not on the rebound anymore.

She knows exactly what it is that she wants this time. She just prays he still feels the same, and this doesn't ruin what they've spent so long building up together.

-

_January 1st, 2021_

As always, she has a glass of red wine waiting for him when he toes off his boots and hangs up his coat. He's had a key to her place ever since one of her more overzealous boyfriends couldn't accept that it was over, and she likes the way his things look in her apartment.

One glass soon turns into another as he chatters about his night until eventually, he asks her if she's looking forward to her date next week; the one she'd called up several hours before and cancelled.

"I'm not going."

Yamashita looks taken aback, to say the least, and she hopes she isn't imagining the tiny flicker of hope in his eyes.

"Oh," he replies after a long pause, "Why not?"

"They never work out," she sighs, "I'm not going to find the one for me by going on dates with strangers. I'm getting old, you know!"

He laughs with her, and her heart skips a beat at the way his eyes still crinkle up when he's happy.

"You don't know that," he says through his smile, and she shakes her head, trying not to let her nerves show on her face. She's never had to confess to anyone before, but he's the closest person to her, and he's always been able to read her like a book.

"I do," she says, and he frowns gently, opening his mouth to speak. She holds up a hand, and he closes it again, waiting for her to finish.

"I... I know I won't find him out there, because... because I've already found him." Yamashita's face falls, and he's quick to replace it with a small smile that feels like a blow to the chest, that he feels it necessary to hide around her. She knows where his mind has gone, and she's quick to steer him back on track, taking hold of his free hand and staring very hard at his fingers where they curl around her own.

"I won't find him out there, because... he's been right here the whole time."

His fingers twitch in her hold, and she dares to lift her eyes to his, finding them dark and unreadable. She swallows awkwardly and lets him calmly place their wine glasses on the table, as unhurried as ever, before his arms are around her waist and his lips are pressing against hers with all the urgency of twenty years of unrequited affections. He holds her closer than he ever has before, kissing her like she's his air, his life, his soul, and she clings onto him just as desperately, throwing herself into him and finally, finally allowing herself to feel like she's found him.

"Y-Yamashita-kun," she gasps when they finally part enough to speak, words a breath against his mouth.

"Tomo," he corrects her, voice rough and deep, and doesn't bother to wait for her to reply before he kisses her again, seeming more than intent on making up for all the time they missed. She smiles against his lips and wonders if this time, he'll start dropping the formalities around her, before she stops thinking about anything at all.

-

_August 25th, 2024_

It's half past six in the morning, and Takako hasn't slept for the past 38 hours. Exhaustion is weighing her down, pressing her into the bed and willing her to sleep but she can't, not yet. Not when he's sitting next to her bed with a tiny bundle cradled in his arms, a look of such wonder and devotion on his face that she can't bring herself to tear her eyes away for even a moment.

Yuka, he'd wanted to call her, and although she'd laughed at him and suggested things like Ayaka and Natsumi, he'd stood firm, and she hadn't had the heart to say no.

Baby Yuka is two hours and twenty-eight minutes old, and Tomohisa is completely head over heels for her. The silver band around his ring finger glistens in the light filtering in through the blinds, but it's nothing compared to the shine in his eyes. He must feel her watching them, because he looks up, and that seems to break the dam inside of him, tears beginning to trickle down his cheeks.

"She's so beautiful," he chokes out, and reaches blindly for her hand, clutching onto it when he finds it, " _You're_ so beautiful."

She doesn't have the energy to do much more than squeeze back, but that seems to be more than enough for him, dropping a kiss to her hand and trying to cough the emotion away before he tells Mama to get some rest. There's a tiny gurgle from Yuka in response, and she falls asleep with the image of the two people she loves most in the world on the back of her eyelids, Tomohisa reaching out to trace their daughter's tiny features as she curls her tiny fingers around his thumb. His eyes fill with unwavering adoration, but she'd never expected anything less.

He always did love with all his heart.


End file.
